Shattered Mind
by Nanomachiner
Summary: The short story of Warren, who gets forced into a situation that's way over his head. Not too sure if this story is acceptable here...If there's any problem at all, please just say so, and I'll take care of it.


Shattered Mind

Warren Crowe, a young thirty-one year old man, sat in his office, looking over some papers. He worked at the LDA (London Detective Agency), in London, England. He had a small, bright lamp shining on his work as well as on his obviously tired face. Even his long, dark hair drooped mournfully. He turned his green eyes to the grandfather clock in the corner.

"10:01 pm… I need to finish quickly" he reminded himself. He didn't want to spend too much time in his office. He wanted to get home and spend some time with his fiancée, Sarah Cunningham. He speedily looked at the various papers and newspaper articles on his desk. They all had to do with the murder of a teenage boy. He took all of his papers and shoved them into a folder for later; he'd decided that these could be taken care of later. Grabbing his brown trench coat and his black bowler hat, he picked up a black handbag he'd used for keeping his material in.

He sped outside hoping to get home quickly. Luckily for him, he spotted a small, black taxicab quickly, and called it over.

"Where to, good sir?" said the smiling man in the car. "Number Two Maple Drive" responded Warren as he stepped into the cab. With that, the taxi lurched forward and pulled away from the LDA.

"So sir, what's an important looking person like yourself doing out this late? You oughta be careful at this time o' night. The cutpurses like to run about at this time." Despite this attempt by the driver to make conversation, Warren continued to look out of the window, admiring the view of the city at night. The way the white streetlamps shone off of the white stone buildings and the cobblestone roads, the peaceful tranquility of the dark sky…

"Hello, sir? It's usually polite to return someone's efforts at conversation." The driver had snapped him out of his trance. Warren looked to the driver with disinterest.

"Please, call me Warren. 'Sir' seems so… formal" responded Warren. The man's face brightened. "Well, my name's Jack! Pleased to meet ya!" When they had pulled up at Number Two Maple Drive, he turned around and flashed a huge grin at Warren. He'd then noticed that this man didn't take very good care of himself. He had wild black hair, a scruffy outfit, and a few missing teeth. Despite this, there was a somewhat loveable air about him, like that of a lost puppy.

Warren began to pull out his money, but Jack quickly put a hand up. "Only £10 for you, Warren." Warren then put back most of his money and gave him precisely £10. "Sorry buddy, but I do still need to make money. They're raising the road tax this year" explained Jack.

"Oh, sorry about that" said Warren, pretending to be sympathetic. "It's fine, I like this job. You get to meet a lot of different characters. Anyway, I shouldn't hold you up. I bet the Mrs. is waiting, right?" asked Jack.

Warren never understood how taxicab drivers did that. They always knew your business even if you didn't tell them. His surprise must've shown, since Jack immediately said "Cabby intuition. We've all got it." With that, he pulled off, leaving Warren outside of his flat.

It wasn't a very impressive sight. His flat was a simple "hole-in-the-wall" building, surrounded on both sides by other unimpressive buildings. Just looking at this "masterpiece" of moldy brick and dirty glass was enough to dampen his already dampened spirits. Holding his bags tightly and heaving a sigh, he entered this depressing place.

The inside was, if possible, even more saddening. The walls were painted an ugly shade of light blue that showed all of its moldy spots. Not only that, but it also seemed to make the ever-present smell of the bathrooms that much worse. With much effort, Warren ignored these things and climbed up the flimsy wooden stairs to his apartment- room 3b. He then stood outside of his door, bracing himself for what was sure to be pure hell. Putting on as bright of a fake smile as he could muster, he opened the door.

Warren was surprised. There stood the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She had long red hair, lovely blue eyes, wore a beautiful red evening gown, and the most comforting smile ever created by God's hands. This was how Sarah had looked every night, so why was he surprised? He fully expected to be run into a corner the second the door creaked, but instead, she gave him a kiss.

"Aww, poor baby. Spent all night on that case, didn't you?" She gave him that unraveling smile again. God, how he loved that smile.

"Yes, it's just a bit hard to understand is all… I took a taxi home, a nice fellow named Jack drove. I…" Warren couldn't keep going. He hated how she always used her smile as a weapon, stopping him dead in his tracks when she wanted him to relax. Seeing her husband cave in to her must've amused her since she giggled a cute little giggle and turned around saying "Relax darling, it's late. Let me get you something." He knew better than to question her; she'd just start using her eyes next.

Sarah was just about the only thing in his world that could relax him so much after his bad days. Appreciating what he did have all the more, he went into his nicely lit sitting room, where he was forced to go when told to "relax". He dropped his baggage at the table adjacent to the plastic-covered couch. Plopping himself on the couch, he could finally "relax" for the first time today.

Several minutes later, Sarah brought him a platter of leftover dinner and some hot tea. Warren immediately took the cup of tea and took several swigs. Feeling the warmth throughout his body, he took the rest of the platter, and placed it on the table.

"Thank you so much" he said. She simply responded with another kiss. "Anything for you, love." She then sat down next to him and pulled out some papers of her own.

"So, I've got a new assignment back at the Standard. I have to cover the story of that kid that recently murdered that classmate of his. You know the one…" At this, Warren turned to her in disbelief. She'd been buttering him up for this. He couldn't stay quiet now.

"Wait, but are you sure? That'd be dangerous! You know the kid's mental. He'd probably kill you or something first chance he got!" Sarah tried the smile again, but this time, he was impervious. Whenever the smile didn't work, Warren's least favorite side of Sarah showed up. Suddenly, she assumed a serious look, her red hair seeming to be ablaze for a second.

"Now look here, this is MY assignment, not yours, okay? Just stick to your investigation and I'll stick to my article, okay?" Now Warren really had to stifle himself. He'd learned a long time ago that when a beautiful woman gets angry, you apologize, then not say anything until she calms down. Heeding that advice, he simply said "Yes, dear", and went back to drinking his tea.

Later that night, he laid himself down on his bed, with Sarah fast asleep. He took out one of his newspaper articles he had from today and studied it closely:

_**Teen Suspect In School Murder**_

_**Tuesday March 15, 1931**_

_**A student at King's College is suspected in the murder of a young man, Phil Thomas, 19. The student, Dirk Wellington, 18, was seen standing over the body with bloody fists. It was known beforehand that there had been some aggression between the two, but no one suspected him to be capable of something like this. When asked about him, his mother broke down into tears saying "He was such a good lad... He never hurt anyone on purpose…he couldn't have done it… I don't care what anyone says, HE DIDN'T DO IT!" It is now suspected that Dirk is suffering from mental trauma. He is to be admitted to Highlands Hospital tomorrow for examination.**_

"Tomorrow at King's Cross…" Warren thought. He hid the paper immediately. If Sarah found out, there was no doubt that she'd go. He wanted her to be safe. He never wanted her to go. That lovely smile of hers would be his, and only his.

The next morning, Warren woke up to find his worst fears realized. Sarah had disappeared, along with his supposedly "hidden" article. Warren jumped up out of bed and rushed some clothes on. He knew where she was going; all he needed was some help. Grabbing his trench coat, he flung open the door and flew out of the building.

Soon after, Warren arrived at the local police station. Running inside, he searched for someone. He then spotted him, a tall man with short brown hair, lanky arms and legs, and a police uniform that looked awkward on him.

"Alastor!" Warren called. The man turned around and smiled as his eyes set on Warren. "Hello, old friend! It's been a while." Noticing the look of urgency on Warren's face, his expression became serious. "What, what happened?"

Warren then explained his situation. Alastor simply laughed. "Don't you think you're overreacting a bit? I can take you there, but I really don't think there's need for so much bother." Warren disregarded his opinion on whether it was important or not. All he wanted was her smile again…

Alastor took off his black bowler cap with his badge on it and managed to fit himself into his small black car. Warren got in at the other side. They then took off for the hospital.

Within the space of an hour, they arrived at Highlands Hospital. It was a small, unimpressive building. Warren wasn't concerned with this however. He was concerned with the many police cars surrounding the building. Warren snapped and began to run for the entrance. Barging through the entrance, he ran around the hospital in frenzy. Alastor quickly caught up and grabbed him by the arm.

"Calm down man! I know where the room is!" Warren quieted down and followed Alastor. As they turned a staircase to go up to the third floor, they came upon a horrid sight. A dead woman- apparently a doctor- laying on the floor with blood running out of her mouth, and out of a small wound in her head. Warren saw this and thought of Sarah. Losing control, he charged up the bloodied stairs. Alastor stayed behind to examine the body.

Warren gaped at what he saw next. Policemen, dead. Patients, dead. Bullet holes in the lights, causing some to flicker and others to simply go out. Amidst all this was a dark figure of a young man in a blue gown. His face was somewhat freckled, he had black hair that somewhat covered his face, and he held a syringe and scalpel in his hand. And there, at his feet was the body of…

Warren couldn't see anything but her face now. He could only see her smile. It was gone now. There she lay, the same blood running out of her mouth, like everyone else. Her face carried no expression. She was like everyone else now. And there he stood, the man who did this.

Warren's mind was gone for good. He wanted this man dead. He took her smile away from him. He had no excuse. And now he laughed. Laughed at me. Laughed at her. At both of us.

"They were all against me… they all wanted to kill me… well now I killed them first…do you want to kill me too? I will kill you too…" Dirk lunged at Warren. Warren however, did not move.

Alastor ran up the stairs hoping that he wasn't too late. He stood motionless at the sight of the bodies, but soon came to at the sight of Dirk lunging at Warren. He had to stop him! He then ran to try and stop him. He was just in time.

"He, he…looks like you owe me one Warren…" panted Alastor. With that, he fell, blood leaking from the wound in his head. It looked like there was some kind of chemical that would cause instant death in the syringe. It appeared that they were to put this man out of his misery, but he wouldn't have any of that.

Warren now lost two. He only cared about killing this man, the man who deserved to die so much. He lost all regard for his life. He went into a charge for him. Tackling him down to the ground, he wrestled the scalpel from Dirk's hands. He now held it above Dirk's head.

"I knew you wanted to kill me…kill me like I killed all of them. And I'll kill you too…" Warren then felt an immediate pain in his chest. He looked down to where the syringe was stuck. He coughed up a few specs of blood. He didn't have very long. With his inevitable death near, he had no reason to hold back. He let his arms fall holding the scalpel, into the man who deserved to die so much.

Warren now had his revenge. He rolled over and crawled over to Sarah's dead body. He lay next to her, about to share the same fate. The last sound he heard was that of police running up the stairs, and the voice of a certain man…Jack. He must've been one of those undercover cops…it figures. He didn't care anymore. He was to have her smile to himself again.

"_**It's mine…All mine…"**_


End file.
